


Of Liberation and Freedom

by Radi_skull320



Category: Pyre (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I can't write ANGST enough, Lets get sad, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27086920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radi_skull320/pseuds/Radi_skull320
Summary: A Reader has been exiled but a band of travelers called the Nightwings provide a sliver of hope. A request is made of this Reader, but it all seems unfair. With the weight of other lives and a Voice that torments her, no one questions her decisions more than herself.
Relationships: Hedwyn/The Reader (Pyre), Hedwyn/f!Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. Downside

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, you all wanna know why I quit playing Pyre from Supergiant games? Because I got really mad at Hedwyn. Because this is how I picture a Reader who had to make awful decisions and an astral voice tormenting them would have probably felt. I stopped playing for years and decided I should finish so I can rightly play Hades. And so this is how I resolved my "nice girl" irritation.

The sun was too bright here, the reader thought not accustomed to the elements outside. No, this was nothing like home. There would be no similarities of the Commonwealth now that she was left to wander the Downside.

It had only been a couple of days, but with the severe injury to her legs no survival skills to her name, the reader was sure she would not last long. She collapsed under the weight of her branded cloak.

There was the sound of gravel crunching under metal wheels, tentative footsteps padded toward her. Three voices and nondescript muttering is all her tired ears can make out. The shade of two disappeared, leaving one.

“Can you hear me?” Arms came around her to sit her upright. She moved her mouth, but no sound was made. Suddenly cool water was brought to her lips and her eyes widened in shock. Drinking greedily, the Reader still can’t make out the face of her tender against the bright of the sun.

Sensing discomfort, her tender, a robed man, settled the Reader’s frail form against the wagon wheel. As her eyes adjusted, she glanced down to find a bit of bread in her limp palm.

“It seems that you are tougher than you look, friend.” A man touched by the sun from constant travel but the gentlest eyes sat across from her. “I am Hedwyn, and I cast no judgment to why you are here. We’re all equally nothing now.”

It was odd, but the gift that cast her down here gave her no warning regarding the intentions of the person across from her. In fact, even with her time in the Commonwealth, she had never felt her connection so at ease. She finally had strength to bring the bread to her mouth and slowly the Reader found her voice.

“Thank you.” She said meekly.

“And what is it that we can call you.” 

It should have come easy, her name. But a sound, a voice, had taken it from her when she was cast Downside. Her hands tugged at her hair as pain radiated through her head, trying to grasp for the information. Hedwyn’s hands grabbed hers to stop their clawing, his face painted with concern. An old bandage fell from her cheek revealing the same brand on her cloak.

“Will Reader do?” He asked gently.

It was why she was here. Her library burned and the skill she fostered despite the laws.

“That is fine.” 

“Then we have a favor to ask you.” With that, Hedwyn carried Reader inside. 

\---

That night, Reader sat outside with the Book of Rites in hand. It was a familiar feeling, the pages of a tome again in her grasp. Nearby, Hedwyn was cooking and Rukey left him to speak to Reader. 

“Is reading the pages similar to reading the stars?” He barked curiously.

“Oh very different.” Reader remarked, glancing up from the pages with a smile. “But reading the pages is required so we can read the stars...I think.”

“That sounds like SO much reading.”

The clouds parted for a moment and Reader was compelled to reach upward. The brand on her cheek glowed as the Voice echoed in her head. A golden tinged star illuminated the sky for a fleeting moment. Reader collapsed, but found herself in the arms of Hedwyn. 

“Ridge of Gol, it seems.” Jodariel’s demonic voice boomed from the Blackwagon door.

Reader offered a confused nod in reply


	2. Fluctus Maris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hedwyn is seasick

The spray of the sea was fresh and beautiful, more refreshing than anything Reader had ever seen described in books. It was everything that she had dreamed of. She leaned off the front of their wagon/boat and Fae sat on the floor tying more sticks together. Reader closed her eyes to focus on her other senses, but the sun was eclipsed by a pair of horns. 

“Reader,” Jodariel disrupted her reverie. “I need you to check on Hedwyn.”

“Me?” Reader replied confused. “But you-”

“He is ill, this sickness may need more...finesse.”

“Alright…” Reader gathered the walking stick that Rukey had procured for her and made her way downstairs, to the complete opposite side of the wagon. She passed the lone minstrel who offered his thoughts.

“Been sick over the edge of the boat all night. I don’t think he can participate in the next Rite for certain.” 

Reader reached her destination to find an ashen Hedwyn, breathing deep and slow.

“Hi Reader.” 

She was a little relieved that it was just sea sickness, but that didn’t bode well for the moment.

“Okay, come now. We need to get your robes off.” Reader motioned for him to quickly give them to her. They were lucky that Hedwyn hadn’t gotten any sick on them thus far. The garments were thrust into her hands with moments to spare as Hedwyn made for the edge of the boat again to retch. 

“Ah, you’d be surprised there’s anything left.” He smiled weakly at his companion. 

Reader quickly deposited his clothes in the common room and brought back a water skin. 

“Hedwyn, we’re going to look out at the horizon. Focus on it ok? And try to sip this gently.” 

“What, just because you can read means you know about the sea?” Hedwyn chided but obeyed.

“I liked reading about the sea the most.”

They stared out for a few moments and Hedwyn sipped gently. However, the rumble in his stomach let them know he wasn’t through the thick of it yet. 

“Give me your hand.” Reader commanded but Hedwyn glanced in confusion and too quickly. Before he could get sicker, Reader grabbed his wrist and applied a gentle pressure. The nomad found that the harshness of his sickness had abated. 

“Huh,” He gazed back out at the horizon but with renewed curiosity. He hoped to distract his mind from the humming queasiness that threatened such a delicate balance. “Will you tell me what you miss about the Commonwealth?” 

“Hmm, probably all my books.” Reader grew nostalgic. “I had them on all topics: travel by sea and air, the inner workings of the body, and simpler ones if I ever wanted to have children read.”

“I think I’d much like to learn to read.” Hedwyn looked down at her, finally regaining some of his color. The bright sun highlighted his agile figure in only his undershirt. Reader fought a blush. 

“Perhaps.” She replied, but remembered to continue pressure on his wrist. “Maybe I’ll have you learn to read recipes.”

“What is a recipe?”

“Written steps on how to cook a dish.”

Despite looking ashen again at the thought of food, the wagon finally found land. 

\---

They made landfall and won their Rite. Once back at the wagon, Hedwyn was up and about again, much to Jodariel’s chagrin. However, she still requested a moment with Reader.

“Well that’s a relief, is it not?” Reader said, regarding Hedwyn's improved condition.

“Reader.” Jodariel said sternly. “Though this did pass, times like it remind me of Hedwyn’s mortality.” 

Reader nodded while the demon chose her next words carefully.

“I beseech you, promise me he will be liberated.”

“That is...the plan?” Reader tried not to sound dense.

“Liberation for him sooner rather than later.” Jodariel doubled down on her request. “Obstacles may present themselves.”

“I promise…” Reader replied tentatively, trying not to anger the taller woman. “That this request will weigh heavy in my considerations.”

Jodariel huffed, her plea adequately entertained for the moment.


	3. Bratus

During a brief lull in their journey, Reader had an option to forage with Fae or read alone. Hoping to learn more about the Rites, she sat in a corner of the wagon’s shade and removed a bookmark. No sooner had she started to read, a hand rested on her shoulder.

“A good spot you’ve got here, Reader.” Hedwyn plopped himself next to her.

“It was primarily to gleen what I can to help us.” She tried not to sound rude.

“Well, if you wanted to read it out loud, I wouldn’t mind listening.” 

“It’s really not that type of book.”

“Reader,” He nestled closer so he could look at the pages. “I’ve looked over this thing so many times. But the symbols mean nothing, they attach to nothing in my mind. It’s terribly frustrating.” He ran his fingers along the delicate lettering. “Like this one here. I’ve drawn it in the dirt, it’s probably something we say a lot.” He looked at her with pleading eyes. “Please, what does it say?”

Reader glanced at his finger on the page for confirmation. She translated to common tongue.

“That...says ‘tree.’”

“Really?” Hedwyn studied it again, but nothing seemed to click. “Like…” He pointed to their source of shade. “Tree?”

“Yes, it says ‘tree.’” She confirmed.

He stared at it longer, waiting for a moment of insight. His head was far too close to Reader’s face. She could untie his headband with her teeth if she felt like it. 

“Look,” Reader gently pushed him out of the way and looked around. “Get me those firewood remains.” Hedwyn dashed to get the ash covered sticks and brought them to her. 

“Words like ‘tree’ are made of letters. Each letter has a sound.” Closing the book, she brought the sooty stick to her palm. She wrote out each letter providing its phonetics to her pupil. He traced the sooty symbols on her palm with his finger, mimicking her phonetics.

His touch tickled and Reader tried to focus on her lesson with him.

“Are our names words?” He seemed a little giddy.

“Actually they are.” Reader wiped her palm on her cloak and Hedwyn seemed sad to see the word disappear. “Do you want to see your’s?”

The nomad nodded excitedly. Reader said his name a few times to guess at the phonetics before bringing the stick back to her palm. 

“You can write it on me.” Hedwyn offered earnestly. He quickly put his palm in her’s. 

“Okay.” Was all she could muster. His palm was bigger than hers providing more space. 

The stick touched his palm and he flinched a little.

“Sorry, it tickles.”

“I’ll need you to be still.” Hedwyn did his best and Reader carefully wrote each letter. She expected him to withdraw when she was done, but forgot why they were writing on each other in the first place. “Oh, that’s it.” 

He brought his palm to his face, but brought it down to Reader’s again for confirmation. She offered a slow phonetic read.

“Hed-wyn.” She said calmly. His jaw dropped and he smiled gleefully. He traced each letter with his finger and was trying to hold it in his memory. The stars in his eyes made him more akin to Fae than a well-traveled nomad. He embraced her tightly but this smudged the lettering and he looked so crestfallen.

“It’s okay.” Reader glanced around and tried to think of something quickly. “How about we find a small knife and carve all the Nightwings’ names into the side of the Blackwagon.”

Hedwyn went starry eyed again.

“Can...can I do mine?”

“Of course.” Reader encouraged.

Suddenly, Hedwyn kissed the brand on her cheek and sped off to find a knife and the Nightwings. Reader sat stunned and blushed under the shade of the tree.

\---

After Pamitha joined the Nightwings, the wagon was a little more cramped and a little more rambunctious. Jodariel was outright angry, but Hedwyn had been clear in his instruction from their benefactor. However, the harp’s familiarity with the nomad didn’t sit right with Reader. She didn’t want to consider why.

Over dinner, in the company of others, Hedwyn decided he would recount his story to Reader. She listened with rapt attention, finally gaining some insight to his past. He covered his responsibilities on the Bloodborder, his aversion to bloodshed, and what he would do with liberation.

“Pamitha, do you think Fikani would wait for an oaf like me?” 

The harp looked over, ready to quip, but made eye contact with Reader. It didn’t take a Reader’s skill to sense that something was amiss.

“I think you’d be lucky to have a chance at liberation, now.” She sipped from a waterskin quietly.

Hedwyn looked puzzled. Before he could glance back at Reader, she was gone. He got up and tried to find her, but there was no trace near the Blackwagon. He returned to their campfire and continued dinner. A moment later, the night sky was momentarily illuminated a bright red. 

“I suppose we will be traveling to the Glade of Lu in the morning.” Tariq commented as he made his way back to the wagon.


	4. Fugio

They met Volfred in the Wakingwood. Despite being their informant, only Ti’zo acted familiar with him. Reader was very confused. After exchanging understandings of his plan, Reader returned to her chosen solitude in the Blackwagon and gently thumbed through the Book of Rites. 

“I thought you would be gathering your things.” The sap had come inside and was now towering over Reader.

“I-” She stammered.

“Or not, I suppose.” He returned his gaze to his hands. “I don’t think they would blame you. There’s no way they could know that you can’t be liberated.”

Reader blanched.

“Or had you not gotten to that yet?” Volfred moved toward her and Reader felt inclined to back away. “Not a _fast_ reader are we.”

“I got us here!” Reader shouted with little confidence. But she stumbled in her efforts to make distance, falling on the floor over her own cloak. 

Hearing the commotion, Hedwyn and Jodariel entered the wagon. Flushed, Reader got up quickly and put the Book of Rites back into its place. 

“We were just comparing capabilities as Readers.”

 _And efficiencies as a Nightwing._ He shot directly into the mind of Reader in her native tongue. 

She looked at the faces of those who had taken her in, Rukey now curious about where his friends had gathered. With a quick glance back to Volfred, Reader recalled how close to failing the last rite had been.

 _Maybe he would serve them better and their liberation would not be my choice to make._ She thought to herself. With sullen motion, she picked up her cloak in her hands and put it back on.

"What are you doing?" Jodariel boomed at Reader.

"Adapting, for the good of the group." Volfred offered, looking all to pleased with himself. 

The trio that had taken her in, slowly comprehended the situation. Reader grabbed her cane and made for the door, but Hedwyn stood in her way. She curled away from him in guilt, knowing that they had not spoken in several days.

“She is a fine Reader and has spent more time with us on this wagon than you have Volfred.” Reader looked up at him stunned.

With gentler hands than expected from a demon, Jodariel unfastened Reader's traveling cloak and hung it up next to the Rite vestments. Rukey knocked her cane away and placed his head under her palm.

Volfred raised an eyebrow and sighed.

“Very well. The plan remains however.”

The Nightwings nodded. Despite this declaration, Hedwyn could not catch the gaze of Reader as she made her way to the back of the wagon.

\---

“This was unorthodox.” The spectral voice of Sandra echoed through the crystal. Reader stumbled by her pyre, gasping for air. She had taken the small mask meant for the wyrm and the tighter vestments meant for the Vagabond girl when she confronted the spirit. However, with only a cane for support and no team, she had been easily bested twice over.

“But I am participating!” She heaved. “Maybe...I _can_ be liberated.”

Sandra laughed at the comment outright, glancing back as the flame of Reader’s opponent burned bright and at full intensity.

“Reader, you have the same weaknesses in the Rites as you do in the world.” Sandra effortlessly tossed the astral sphere over the crawling body of Reader. The flame sputtered out and Sandra charged a familiar beam, banishing Reader from the Beyonder Crystal.

There was a flash of green light and Reader found herself panting and heaving on the floor of the Blackwagon. Several smaller members of the Nightwings were the first to find her.

“My goodness lady Reader, are you hurt?” Sir Gilman slithered under her shoulder to provide some support. Reader was sadly deadweight on the slippery wyrm. Ti’Zo flitted out to find help.

She let out a bloody, sputtering cough in reply to Sir Gilman.

“A Reader with banishment sickness? At such severity?” Volfred offered, more puzzled than concerned. He glanced over at the Beyonder Crystal. Fae worked to get the robes and mask off Reader and kindly didn't ask questions. Ti'Zo returned and nuzzled the face of Reader to let her know help was coming. Jodariel elbowed past the sap and scooped up Reader.

“Come on now.” She tried to hide the concern in her voice. “The fresh air will do you good.” 

The demon brought her outside and laid her on a grassy patch away from their campfire. Jodi was right, Reader could suddenly feel more air in her lungs. She lay there while her breathing steadied and stared at the setting sun. Even when Reader tried to sit up, a stern hand begged her to still. 

“By the Scribes,” The demon started through grit teeth, but gently metered her tone. “That was lunacy.”

“Wouldn’t you...try anything for freedom?” Reader replied in between gasps.

“Maybe, but not to the extent of needing to be patched up every couple of weeks.” Jodi offered a maternal rustle through the smaller woman's hair. "Despite what you think, we feel you when we're on the field. We know you feel for us. All of us."

 _Feeling_. Reader smiled madly to herself. She didn't want to admit that her foray into the Beyonder Crystal had been the best distraction from feeling like Volfred would serve the Nightwings better, from feeling hopeless of salvation, from feeling an ache she pictured that each of the Nightwings had someone waiting for them in the Commonwealth...one in particular. Reader looked back at the darkening sky. A tear rolled out of the corner to her eye.

"Feeling." She laughed a little. "I don't know what feels worse, the ache from banishment or the wound in my pride from being bested thrice over." Jodariel didn't responf to the attempt at deflection. Instead she continued her instinctive tracing along Reader's scalp waiting for the wall to crumble. “I should have left. Volfred has the experience-”

“Now stop that.” Jodariel said in a voice that demanded attention. “Your strategy has been something we have been missing. But most of all..” She looked at the ground decidedly. “Hedwyn believes in you and therefore I believe in you. To disagree with him is to disagree with myself, since I raised him.”

“Truly?” Reader was allowed to sit up. “I suppose knowing his situation makes it a little easier to keep my promise to you.”

“Yes, but I believe you will do what is right.” Jodariel offered a nearly discernable smile.

“See that wasn’t so hard, now was it Jodi?” Hedwyn arrived with two steaming bowls...of something. The demon grunted, regaining her hard demeanor and returned to the wagon. Reader quickly tried to stand and follow. The nomad was the last person she wanted to see right now. Without her supports, Reader stumbled and Hedwyn tutted at her.

“Really now, we’ll have none of that.” He knelt down and rested the bowls nearby. “Now let’s have a look at you.”

Reader squirmed, not wanting to show evidence of sadness. 

“You’ve had the worst case of banishment sickness that we’ve ever seen.” He caught her chin gently causing Reader to still. “Now will you please.”

He brought a softer cloth from one of the bowls to a split on her lips and Reader tried to recoil from the sting. Hedwyn used the rest of the dampness to clean up caked blood on her face from her coughing fits. If he did notice evidence of tears, he didn’t say so. When he finally let go of her face, the nomad grabbed an arm Reader didn’t know as badly bruised. She grimaced again.

“You have no one to blame but yourself for this.” Hedwyn wrapped some dressing with oil onto the blemish. 

“I know,” Reader hissed at the pressure. All she wanted to do was run, but even that had been taken from her. She sniffled and tried to discreetly wipe the remainder of her tears. She tried to summon her best Jodariel coldness. “It was a selfish act, unbecoming of your Reader. I suppose a strategy for _the plan_ also falls to my hands. It's a similar lunacy that you trust me with your liberation.”

“I am sorry we didn’t know.” He muttered, remaining focused on his task.

“Why would any of you have known. It is alright.” Reader said distantly, looking up at the emerging stars.

“But I do mean to keep my promise.” The nomad looked at her earnestly. “We will leave this place, all of us.”

“Great, all of us. One happy family back in Commonwealth.” Reader spat sarcastically after regarding him out of the corner of her eye. Despite her illness and damage, despite the crushed hopes of freedom, she hated that what hurt the most was in her chest. “Deserter then, was it?”

“Yea, lose my head if it wasn’t attached to me.” Hedwyn smiled at her, seemingly happy to have her speak with him again after several days. “Went off selfishly and...missed something important as it would seem. A naive and foolish thing to do isn’t it?”

Reader wanted to answer, but night had fallen. The sky called out to her and she offered the Nightwings their next destination.


	5. Limax Forum

She chose to liberate Rukey first. The world of the Commonwealth still ran on Sol and his enterprising spirit could provide resources for the plan. Jodariel remained stoic, but didn’t speak with Reader and Hedwyn was in lower spirits in the absence of his cur companion. As someone not as close with the core of the Nightwings, Pamitha invited Reader to sit with her atop the wagon. 

“I hold no ill will toward you Reader, I have no expectation of liberation.” The harp said coyly.

“Well I’ll be honest in that it is good to hear someone say that directly.” Reader took a seat on the tiled roof of the Blackwagon. While Pamitha deftly maneuvered on the field, Reader hadn't made much effort to interact with her otherwise. She didn't want to admit mild intimidation of the winged woman's confidence. 

“I think the whole of this Rites custom will take time.” She produced and partook in her bottle of moonshine then offered it to her companion. Reader took a tentative smell and distorted her face.

“It does take some getting used to, but it gets the job done, dear.”

Reader took a swig and coughed. It would in fact take some getting used to.

“Supposing it was impending, what would you do with freedom?” Reader wiped her mouth and returned the offending bottle to its maker.

“You can’t fly as far when you’re clipped like me darling. And family forgiveness would be entirely out of the question at that point.” She looked distant, only for a moment before regaining her normal composure. “So it’s not a thought for me to entertain.” It was hard for Reader because Pamitha was impervious to her gift, but she sensed great pain and guilt in her companion.

“So we’re in the same predicament then?”

“Oh I doubt that, the thing I want is rightly unattainable, while for you,” Pamitha sidled in closer and lowered her voice. “It seems he’s right there.”

“Wha-I-no!” Reader jumped and felt heat in her ears.

“Liar, you know the idea leaves you slicker than the slugmarket.” The smile was clear in her whisper.

“PAMITHA! Why...I never!” Reader fumbled and made to leave. Feathers enveloped her and closed off an escape.

“It’s alright dear, I was just teasing. Come here, lady to lady I swear I won’t speak like that again.” Her apology was genuine and she offered the bottle again like an olive branch. “Fine, we can change the subject.” Pamitha offered thoughtfully. “Did you have someone back in the Commonwealth then?”

Reader glared since it wasn't too much of a change in subject. She took a swig from the bottle again and it landed better than the last. “Afraid not. It’s hard to have a trusting and lawful relationship when you’re...literate.”

“I’m sure you’re not the only one with that problem.” The harp laughed. “There must have been others like you, no? Or do all you readers prefer the company of pages to the company of people?”

Reader sat thoughtfully as Hedwyn walked nearby. The feared thought she had fought off for so long finally bubbled up. 

_If she's anything as lovely as Pamitha, why would he consider a scarred cripple like me._

“Pages don’t cut as deep as people do.” She muttered. Pamitha jostled her and the world spun a little.

“Well these folks appear to have accepted you, skills and all. Isn’t it nice?”

As much as she wanted to believe Pamitha, Reader realized she would be hiding something entirely legal but more devastating.

“What are you ladies scheming up there?” Hedwyn called up to the pair on the wagon.

“How much you owe this one a trip to the slugmarket!” Pamitha replied with a giggle and pointed to Reader.

“Yea!” Reader chimed in, the affirmation seeming to tumble out.

The nomad looked confused and the harp recognized when it was time to put the reader to bed.

\----

She awoke to the wagon moving and screeches of drive imps that were all too loud. Pamitha had only gotten her down just under the roof before Reader apparently chose to sleep on her cloak. There was a water skin in her reach and a familiar face resting with crossed arms against the wall.

“I figured you would need that.” Hedwyn gestured toward the waterskin. Reader took it and sipped gently. “How are we this morning?”

“Great, really.” Reader replied, ignoring the pain in her temples. It was too early in the day to feel this panicked.

“Glad you found a friend in Pamitha.” He said curtly.

“Certainly.” She again found herself wanting to run, unsure of what else may have transpired the night before. Or worse, of what Pamitha may have shared with him. “I hope your night was well as it could be.”

“I think we were all dealing with the absence of our friend differently.”

“You know, I agree. From what I saw and remember.” Hopefully that would buy her some cover. The silence that followed was too long and it was uncharacteristic of the nomad. Her mind played every scenario about why he could be mad at her. If he secretly wanted to be liberated first, if he actually hated all of her strategies, if for literally any reason in all of Downside he just never wanted to speak to her ever again.

“I hope you know that,” Hedwyn sighed and uncrossed his arms, finally looking at Reader. “That you can talk to me as well if something is troubling you.”

This was quite the turn. Reader had been sure he was cross with her for something else. But jealous, that was new. 

“I know, and I will! I promise.” She nodded too quickly and felt a stab of pain. “But sometimes there are conversations better had between...um ladies.” She sipped gently.

Hedwyn brightened a little, understanding that he had not been shut out. He made for the door and relief washed over Reader. She could finally nurse her aching head. 

“So I won’t be learning what you need from the _slugmarket_ then?”

Reader spat water all over the floor. It startled the drive imps.

“Wha-why would we need to go there? WehaveallweneedandnoSoltoourname. Nope, don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hedwyn was trying to stifle a grin and he finally passed through the door frame.

Reader actively tried to shrink into her cloak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come on, Pamitha would be super foul (fowl)-mouthed (HAR HAR HAR) and you know it.


	6. Praestrictus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fucking warned you, also yea I straight up lost a liberation and I was super mad.  
> TW: implied suicidal thinking

The cycle of the Rites had started to turn quickly, much to the surprise of all the triumverates. While there were still stars shimmering in the sky, the building desperation among the exiles was becoming clearer. Such things didn’t matter to Reader as freedom was not an option. Instead she weighed the abilities of the Nightwings and considered who could best survive the Downside. This meant the Vagabond girl was sent most recently. These days she read Volfred’s planner more than the Book of Rites. The Voice was growing displeased with her decisions and informed her so nightly. And the weight of constant and growing vacancy was wearing on morale. 

One night when Reader tended to the planner, Jodariel charged in.

“Word has it that you will anoint me next.” She snarled.

Taken aback, Reader had no response. Sleep had become hard to get and she was unprepared for the demon’s assault.

“For the plan and the will of the Scribes-”

“Blast the Scribes!” She slammed her fist on the wall of the wagon. “We had an understanding!”

The taller woman encroached the shrinking space of her target. Reader tried to reach out to Jodariel’s mind but the connection was unstable given her fatigue. The demon felt a jolt as the connection created an odd feedback.

 _Oh no_. Reader thought. It had been a while since feedback had happened.

Jodariel clutched her chest, blasted with emotions of affection and care that were not her own. She looked back at Reader with a sudden comprehension followed by rage. 

“Why you wretched, selfish-” As the demon raised the back of her hand to strike Reader, the feeling of pain conflict lingered longer than anything else from the feedback. She glanced down at the cowering Reader, still bracing for impact.

"Please Jodariel, I-I can explain!" The feedback continued in the taller woman, genuine care for each of the Nightwings, the fear of loneliness, the agony when anointing.

The object of both of their concerns appeared between her hand and the reader.

“Jodi, what is the meaning of this!” He demanded.

Her hand returned to her side. She glanced between Reader and her dear son. 

“What do the literate know anyway.” The demon muttered before walking away.

“By the Scribes, what is going on.” Hedwyn looked at Reader who offered no reply. Frustrated, he took her by the arm and led her outside. He stood next to the food he had been working on.

“We’ve been pushing ourselves now for a while… Everyone? We’re taking the night off… Set aside your troubles and concerns as best you can. They’ll be there waiting for us in the morning. As for me… dinner’s almost ready!” The nomad proclaimed and the Nightwings started to gather around for their fill.

Sullenly, Reader took her share and walked away from the group to the nearby river. The sound of the flowing water helped ensure the quiet in her mind. It was getting harder to sort the calls of the Voice with her own, so she erred on assuming both were the same. It left her hollow, which appeared to be a blessing to come up with cold stratagem. Under the branches of a naked tree, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the richness of dinner so lovingly made.

“Reader?” A familiar voice called from behind and circled around to sit beside her. She was too tired to tell him to go away.

“Thank you for dinner.” She said formally.

“Of course.” He was too earnest for small talk. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Please,” She replied painfully.

“You promised you would talk to me.”

She placed her bowl to the side and drew a heavy breath.

“I truly wish that anointment was a vote, or some sort of merit amongst a triumvirate. But no, as an accursed conduit to the stars it falls to me and me alone!” She threw a rock into the river. “By what delusion of grandiosity can a flawed being like myself have any right.” Reader was too tired for tears to come. 

“I can see it weighs on you. And I know it's unfair.”

“You didn’t know, it’s fine-”

“It absolutely is not.” Hedwyn was rarely stern and this surprised Reader. “I would never ask anyone to do something I couldn’t do. And after what I’ve seen is demanded of you as a reader. I honestly don’t know if I could.”

“Especially if it was you, they’d understand, Hedwyn.” 

“Doubtful, I’d probably try to jam us all in the Shimmer pool at once and hope for the best.”

Reader laughed, a sound almost foreign to her in recent days. 

“There it is!” The nomad smiled in return. “Now what can I do to get that smile more often.”

“Hard to say.” Reader’s smile faded entirely as she sorted through her words. She vacantly remembered what she had been suppressing and had no energy to continue. “When I send you back, because Scribes know I will, will you just make sure to give her laughter?”

Hedwyn stared at her blankly, stunned at the sudden invocation of Fikani. The wind caught the back of his headband and it got caught in the low hanging branches. While he thought of what to say, he realized he was stuck. He struggled with the fabric and his words before Reader stood on her knees to bring the headband down.

“I need to untie it.”

“No you can’t!” He protested.

“I can’t have you part of the tree forever.”

“No please!” Hedwyn couldn’t stop her hands in time. The fabric fell away and he was free. However he looked horrified at Reader. Two small horns protruded from his forehead, the tips appeared to be filed down and scabbed over. The skin around the protrusions was raw and inflamed.

“Those look like they could do with a bit of air anyway.” She stated plainly.

“They’re hideous.” Hedwyn snatched an edge of his headband. 

“The skin is irritated, you can’t put that back on.” Reader held fast to the other end. 

“I’ll do what I please!” The nomad tugged back sharply, bringing Reader toppling down on him. Her sudden weight knocked him backward with a thud. 

When Reader opened her eyes, she was aware that her brand had brushed against his cheek. Hedwyn’s breath was in her hair and the smell of the campfire radiated from him. She slowly pushed herself up and was met with the nomad’s chestnut eyes. He was still terrified. Reader remembered the first time someone saw her branded face. She brought her thumb to his small horns and stroked the raw skin.

“They look fine.” She said reassuringly. “The color compliments your hair.”

As if from a memory of a time before Rites, Reader chastely kissed one of the small horns. Hedwyn winced a little. After this, the Voice or herself, she wasn't sure anymore, resumed it's litany of chastisement. With a heavy sigh, Reader got up and extended her hand to the man on the ground so he could get up. She grabbed her cane and her bowl and hobbled back toward camp, leaving a dazed nomad by the river.

\---

They had a Rite against the Fate. Reader woodenly mixed the oil and ash to anoint Hedwyn for liberation. It was a bittersweet relief to know that he could be out of sight and out of mind. Jodariel happily participated in the Rite to free him. 

Hedwyn stood at his post, his torn feelings evidenced in the occasional flicker of his aura. He had listened to Reader and removed his headband for a while and his anointment glistened between his horns. Reader took her spot on the sidelines and prepared her commands.

The nomad found it hard to concentrate. He now understood when Volfred described greater ease to secure the freedom of friend than their own. It was going to be a close Rite. His hair stuck to his mask from sweat. Suddenly, he noticed that he was the lone Nightwing with the sputtering remains of both pyres. With the orb in hand and long moments before his companions would return from banishment, he charged forward. Reader’s voice came through in his mind and told him that he would have to throw the orb. The opening was clear, he could do this.

He could win, he could be free. But he would never see Reader again. Another broken promise.

He froze as the thought rolled around in his mind. Reader screamed her command, but the orb never left his grip. With a blast, he was banished and the Fate quenched the flame of the Nightwings.

The Nightwings returned to the wagon in a stunned silence. It was their first loss and Hedwyn had never frozen before. Was it the pressure of his own freedom? Did he pity the Fate?

He found Reader in a meadow far from the Blackwagon. 

“By all 8 Scribes what have you done!” Her voice broken in disbelief.

Hedwyn was silent.

“You take direction so well! And even when you don’t, your innate skill has carried you through so much. I just…” She ran her hands through her hair. “You could have been free!”

It should have hurt more, the idea of missing out on his own freedom. But he couldn’t pin how he was feeling if he tried. Instead, all he could muster was a response.

“But then who would take care of you?” The half cocked smile of the nomad would have normally melted even Jodariel’s rage. Instead:

“How DARE you!” Reader’s voice was unsteady. “Your own acts of selfishness brought you down here and for what? No, I have the opportunity to give the only people I’ve found I care for a chance I don’t have. A chance to return in glory, a chance to change the Commonwealth, a chance to return to someone.” 

Hedwyn still didn’t know what to say. Reader’s eyes were bloodshot and glassy. Seeing her like this hurt him so much.

“No, I can’t be liberated by the Rites, but I can be freed by my own hand and I don’t need you here to see that!”

With that he ran and embraced her, despite her furiously pounding on his chest to let go.

“Please don’t talk like that.”

“Get OFF of me!” Reader finally successfully broke free. The sound drew the attention of Pamitha and Jodariel. “I will not have you of all people lecture me on selfishness. The role of the reader is to make decisions, so you will be damn sure I will make this one.”

The harp landed beside Reader and the demon made to lead Hedwyn away. Pamitha opened her wings to allow Reader space to lay her head on a feathery shoulder. She wrapped her wings around the smaller woman to allow for privacy and glared at the man being led away. 

“That must have been very hard.” She cooed.

Reader balled up her cloak, trying to muffle her louder crying.

“Please know that’s not a fate any of us want for you dear.” 

She stilled, exhausted, and put her arms around Pamitha in a weak embrace. 

“There there now, I’ve got you.” The harp glided them back to the blackwagon and Reader readied for sleep.


	7. Marina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not Beta-ed I just desperately needed this story and all of it's details out of my head so I could get back to work. I don't know if anyone will even read or find this, but I hope you all enjoyed some sadness I tried to convey. Now I can finally play Hades.

Hedwyn had won his Rite and stood before the shimmer pool. The Nightwings stood with him in a mood of similar bittersweet victory. He looked at Reader, a sullen shell of the woman he had brought onto the wagon before. Volfred was even concerned about the amount of the Voice’s harassment, but precious few knew it was just as much due to her own demons.

“Reader, please.” He begged he could speak with her before he left. He had honored her will to be left alone, but it meant he wanted to say so much. 

When she looked up at him, her features were marked with an odd peace.

“These horns should let you know that I am not the naive young man that was initially cast Downside. Please keep fighting. And I will do everything to keep my promise to you.”

He tilted her chin up and kissed the brand on her cheek before backing into the shimmer pool. A fragile flicker of something within tugged her lips into a smile. 

“There it is.” He smiled back warmly before he was thrust upward.

\---

Reader did not find peace. The Voice tormented her to the point that she responded aloud. The Rites turned so quickly that there was hardly time to recover. Through some grace, Reader remained composed and tactical as ever, sending up Volfred, Jodariel, and Sir Gilman.

The Voice let her know that the Commonwealth was threatened and she laughed heartily back, displaying obscene gestures at the Scribegate. They were nearly forbidden to enter. At the final Rite, Oralech’s True Nightwings nearly got the better of them. However Pamitha, whom she had anointed, moved deftly among the team. Despite their victory, Reader could see the beginnings of banishment sickness taking hold of her friends. 

They took their positions, standing exhausted at the new liberation ceremony. Suddenly the ground shook and the shimmer pool glowed a brilliant red. Something was wrong. Something was different. Had the cycle of rights ended before her divination? The Voice echoed through the heads of all present.

**A choice for another?!**

Pamitha seemed to understand most clearly. She darted between Oralech and Reader, pushing the smaller woman toward the pool. 

“What are you doing?!” Reader shouted among the din of the shaking ground.

“I choose you!” Pamitha stated so that all could hear. “You are to be liberated.”

The ground ceased its threatening rumble and the pool glowed white once more.

“You can’t be serious!” Reader exclaimed. “I anointed you! This is my decision.”

“Not today sister.” The harp embraced Reader. “For once, in a long, long time, it is not your decision.” With that, Pamitha flapped hard, creating a gust that blew Reader back into the pool before she could protest. The familiar blast hurtled skyward and the Nightwings, old and new, acknowledged the end of the Rites for this lifetime. 

\---

She was welcomed with glory, offered titles and a position where she could still read the old books of times forgotten. But she refused and instead aided in the peaceful revolution. She had chosen wisely, an ideal team for successful and bloodless revolt. She later learned that Hedwyn himself had led the assault on the Archjustice with the support of Fikani. She slept best that night. 

As the Sahrian Union stabilized, she chose a new name, Marina, for the sea, and was given a ship and means to document her adventures on the water. She remained in touch with Pamitha via messenger imp and learned that she had made peace with her sister. As Marina prepared to set sail on her journey for discovery, a familiar face met her at the dock.

“Admiral Marina?” Hedwyn stood before her, no longer in nomad robes, but finer ones decorated with several medals. He was still free of his headband and his hair was still unkempt. He helped throw off a rope into the water.

“Hedwyn!” Marina threw her arms around him in joy. She looked back up at familiar chestnut eyes.

“There it is.” He said familiarly. “Do you need more crew?”

“You hate the sea.” Marina reminded him.

“I’ve sailed a bit more since we last sailed together.” He said defensively.

“Those seem to have healed nicely.” She remarked at healthy skin and horns that were no longer filed.

“Yea well, it seems that they still mean something to some people.” He looked a little wistful. “Not as tolerant as we were in the Downside.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Marina related, the brand on her face reminded some of a harsher time. 

“I’ve no time for those stuck in old stigmas. We are free to live as we choose, accepted as ourselves entirely, wasn’t that the point of all of this?” Hedwyn took her hands in his, eyes earnest as ever. “And I choose to be with you, if you’ll have me.”

Marina reached up and brought his face to hers. She kissed him with fervor, reveling in the familiar smell of campfire and sun. She couldn’t stop the tears that welled in her eyes when she pulled away and nodded.

“Oh my reader, I missed you.” He replied.

“You can keep learning to read now too.” She smiled, finally free to share her skill and it’s joys.

“That sounds fantastic.” 

Marina led him onto her boat and told him of her travel plans. Hedwyn admitted that he had brought along recipes he hoped they could learn together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I even wondered if this self-destructive reader earned a happy ending with this silly horned boy. But its 2020, we give joy where we can


End file.
